Harry Potter and the Mirror of Mascarane
by Kessu
Summary: What happens when Sirius creates a gender-changing mirror? What about when it works? Slight OOTP spoilers, mild language, no slash, no pairings, suggestive scenes, perverse humor, characters OOC, purely for fun.
1. Chapter One: Portraits and Werewolves

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the content from the books. I don't own the  
  
house. I don't even know if I own my computer. Wait! If I don't own it, then  
  
why is it 'my' computer? ...? Umm... okay, then. I don't own Harry Potter  
  
or any of the other J.K. originals. I don't own any of the spells, brooms,  
  
places, objects, ect.... All I really own is 'The Mirror of Mascarane' and  
  
the plot. IT'S MINE. Okay, so the gender-changing plot isn't mine, but the  
  
way the story flows is! I think. Wait... Hmm... I suck at disclaimers.   
  
Anyways, this story was inspired by the Evil Plushies, so don't steal it   
  
or I'll sick Sirius Plushie on you!  
  
  
  
P.S.: Just because I treat Sirius like an idiot and Harry like a crybaby,  
  
it doesn't reflect my opinions! I love 'em both to death! I'm not attacking  
  
a specific character, either. I'm attacking them all! GYAHAHAHAHAHA! It's  
  
just for fun, so don't murder me.   
  
  
  
NOTE: The words enclosed in slashes (/example/) mean they are supposed to be in  
  
italics. I couldn't get the document manager to accept something that  
  
DID allow italics, so... And if you see a spelling mistake or something that is messed up (confusing, ect.), E-mail me and  
  
make me aware of it! How am I supposed to fix it if I haven't a clue?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
  
  
The house was dark and damp. It strongly reminded Harry of the dungeons back  
  
at Hogwarts, the dungeons he had to walk through too often to get to Potions  
  
class. However, the dungeon at least had torches lit with blazing flames  
  
to light the stone passages. This house had nothing, no light or windows  
  
to allow the nearly full moon's wisps of silver light to flood the house's  
  
hallways, no flickering lamps; Harry could barely see his own hand if  
  
he held it in front of his face and rapidly waved it around, nor could he  
  
see where he put it when he reached out. He was relying on his hearing and  
  
the feeling the objects gave him when he touched them.   
  
Harry glared at the dark shadows in front of him. He had a funny dream, which  
  
had made him leave the visibility of his room (he was quite glad to get away,  
  
however, as Ron's snoring made even Hedwig fly out the window with an irritated  
  
hoot) and the slight comfort of his bed. He silently cursed Sirius for not  
  
having a house with proper lights (it did have gas lamps, but Harry didn't  
  
know how to turn the darned things on). When Harry's thoughts drifted off  
  
to Sirius, he suddenly remembered the dream he had had.  
  
He was standing in a room that looked suspiciously like the dining room in  
  
Sirius's house, however it had furniture that Harry had never even seen.  
  
Sirius and Lupin were sitting on a brown leather couch, though from Harry's  
  
position he could only see the back of their heads. Ron, surprisingly enough,  
  
was rolling around on the floor, clutching his stomach and howling with laughter.  
  
Hermione was standing by a fireplace, where she had buried her face into  
  
her hands and appeared to be crying. Harry felt himself move forward, where  
  
he stopped to look at Lupin.  
  
Lupin's face was not calm or relaxed as it usually was. His face had turned  
  
an unusual shade of magenta and he was heatedly glaring over at Ron, his  
  
eyes following Ron's every roll. Harry couldn't tell what was the difference,  
  
but Lupin looked... slightly different...   
  
Harry's attention turned to Sirius, who, surprisingly, seemed to be quite  
  
pleased. He was smirking around the dining room as if he had just won the  
  
Lottery ("a Muggle form of the Triwizard," as Hermione called it) and didn't  
  
even seem to mind Ron. Sirius's eyes rested on Hermione.  
  
Harry, too, looked at Hermione. She had removed her face from her hands and  
  
was gazing guiltily at Harry, who saw that she hadn't been crying but appeared  
  
to be too ashamed to look at him.   
  
Harry sat in-between Sirius and Lupin, and they turned to look at him. Harry  
  
saw that Sirius looked startlingly different as well, but when you're dreaming  
  
you tend to be much more stupid than normal, so he couldn't put his finger  
  
on what.   
  
"You're not crying, Harry," said Sirius with a mischievous smirk playing  
  
on the corners of his mouth.   
  
"Crying?" asked Harry, taken aback. "Why would I be?"  
  
"Well, you were sobbing all day," replied Sirius. As if changing the subject,  
  
Sirius looked from Lupin to Ron. "That's the first time I've seen Remus look  
  
like he wants to kill your friend, Harry."  
  
Harry looked at Lupin, who indeed had a murderous look about him. "Why's  
  
he want to kill Ron?" asked Harry, who turned to see that Sirius's face was  
  
fading.  
  
"What?" asked Sirius, his voice beginning to crackle like a badly tuned radio  
  
station. "Don't you remember? Ron made Remus..."  
  
Harry had woken up, where he cursed aloud. He was about to know why Lupin  
  
was going to kill Ron, but suddenly glared at the snoring lump in the blankets  
  
on the bed nearest his. He knew that he, too, would kill Ron if he didn't  
  
stop shaking the house...  
  
Harry remembered half expecting Sirius and Lupin to run into the room, wondering  
  
what noise had made even the doxies in the curtains stop buzzing. Unfortunately,  
  
they didn't. Harry would have loved to see Lupin's reaction when he found  
  
out that the source of the noise was only Ron.  
  
Harry's mind snapped back to his current state. He hadn't noticed that his  
  
hand was on the doorknob that led to the dining room. He also forgot why  
  
he was even out of bed at all. When he remembered, he opened the door slowly  
  
and crept down the stairs, where his feet were greeted with the thump of  
  
a hard floor. He looked around, only to see black. He snorted loudly before  
  
walking (he didn't care that his feet were making an enormous amount of racket)  
  
back up the stairs, closing the door with a loud creak, and trudging back  
  
to his bedroom. He suddenly understood why it was called the House of Black.  
  
He couldn't even see the umbrella holder that was made of something like  
  
a troll's leg, which he tripped over.   
  
The troll's leg fell over with a loud CRACK and began to roll down the hallway  
  
(/bubump, bubump, bubump/) where it collided with a door, where it was  
  
then met with an earsplitting screech.  
  
A pair of moth-eaten curtains flew open, revealing an extremely life-like  
  
woman who looked surprisingly like a hag. However, she was just a portrait  
  
that was screaming so loudly that Harry had to dash up the stairs, jump into  
  
his room, throw himself into his bed, pull the covers over his head, and  
  
resist the urge to throw a book at Ron, who was still snoring peacefully  
  
but ever so loudly.  
  
Harry's eyes were shut tight when he heard Sirius scream a curse (not the  
  
magic type) and was soon greeted by the sound of pairs of feet slamming against  
  
the floor. Mrs. Black's screeching had soon halted, and he was almost positive  
  
he was going to be interrogated. Harry quickly pulled off his glasses and  
  
placed them on the bedside table just in the nick of time. Sirius and Lupin  
  
burst into the room, a look of extreme agitation of their faces.  
  
"Who did it? Hmm? Who was up?" growled Lupin, making Harry wonder if he had  
  
transformed early.   
  
Unfortunately, Harry was a dead giveaway. Ron was snoring and Harry was trying  
  
to sleep; everyone knew quite well that nobody, not even the famous Harry  
  
Potter, could sleep through the massive snorts and grunts that came from  
  
the red-haired, freckle-faced, Ron Weasley.   
  
"Harry," grumbled Sirius. "What were you doing?"  
  
Harry's form slightly quivered, but otherwise gave no movement or sound.  
  
He could only hope that they were stupid enough to think he was asleep.   
  
"Harr-" Lupin was cut off by Ron's snore (Sirius jumped and ran to see to  
  
Buckbeak, where he walked back, looking slightly embarrassed. After all,  
  
it did sound like an animal roar).   
  
"Listen, Harry, you-" Lupin began, but cursed loudly as Ron let out a sound  
  
that sounded like a pig squeal.  
  
Harry fought back the temptation to laugh, as Lupin probably would turn into  
  
a werewolf and come after him first. However, he was more worried about Sirius,  
  
who was creeping up to the bed.  
  
Sirius grinned wickedly before poking Harry forcefully. He continued to do  
  
so. When he got no response, he decided to take it a step further... "Harry,  
  
hey Harry! Harrrrryyyy-HARRY-hey, Harry, Harrr-rrr-rrrr-yyyy, want me to  
  
sing, Harry? I can sing well, Harry-really, I can-you'd think that somebody  
  
was killing Crookshanks, honestly, I'm that good-want to hear? -All right,  
  
ready? One-two-three-LAAAAA LAAAAAAA LAAA! LAAAA LAAAAAAAAAA LA!"  
  
Harry fell from the bed and rolled around the floor in pain. He was clutching  
  
his ears and screaming: "GACK! STOP! NO! MAKE IT STOP! ARGHHH!!! HELP  
  
MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"  
  
Much to everyone's annoyance, Ron had woken up and rolled over. He glared  
  
at Harry. "Will you stop making so much noise? People are trying to sleep!"  
  
With that said, he rolled back over and began his raucous snoring all over.  
  
Sirius was smiling triumphantly at Harry, before realizing he had just insulted  
  
himself. He frowned and slumped behind Lupin, where he began to sulk. Lupin  
  
stepped towards Harry, who was still rolling around and screaming. ("MY EARS  
  
ARE BLEEDING! BLOOD! BLEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEDING! CALL ST. MUNGO'S! I NEED HELP!  
  
AHHHHHHHH!")  
  
"Harry!" yelled Lupin, putting his foot on Harry's chest to prevent him from  
  
rolling around any longer. "Really! Sirius sang by me, and I'm not dying-wait,  
  
never mind, I'm just wearing earplugs--" Lupin popped two pastel pink earplugs  
  
out of his ears, where he flung them behind him ("OUCH! PINK! IT BURNS! GYEEE!"  
  
screamed Sirius when they hit him) He blinked at Sirius before turning  
  
back to Harry.  
  
"As I was-" /SNORE/. "Now, Harry--" /SNORE!/ "HARRY--"  
  
/SNORE!!!/ "DAMMIT, SHUT UP!" screamed Lupin, pouncing on Ron and pulling  
  
him to the floor. All that was heard was the occasional growl, snore, curse,  
  
and yelp.   
  
Sirius rushed to pull Lupin off Ron (who was sleep fighting) where he flung  
  
him onto Harry's bed. Lupin was breathing heavily, mostly because of his  
  
rage, and Ron was snoring 'insults' ("Come get... /snore/... me...  
  
ya big-breasted... /snore/... baboon...") and sometimes pausing  
  
to jab the air with his foot. Harry was now rolling on the floor again, not  
  
in pain, but shrieking with laughter. Tears were rolling down his face as  
  
he choked on his own laughter. Lupin was glaring murderously at Harry, who  
  
didn't notice. However, Sirius did notice, and gripped Lupin's arm tightly.  
  
"I've had enough! We'll find out tomorrow, when we don't have this one to  
  
deal with," grunted Sirius, jerking his head towards Ron ("Fight...  
  
/snore/... like the... /snore... twitch, grunt, pig  
  
squeal/... people... /GYARRRRRRR!!!/... you are...")  
  
who was twisting madly in his bed.  
  
Lupin shot one angry look at Ron and Harry before storming out of the room,  
  
closely followed by Sirius. Sirius closed the door behind him and heard him  
  
mutter something before seeing a flash of light. Harry walked to the door  
  
and found that Sirius had magically locked it. He pulled his trunk out from  
  
under his bed, grabbed a random book, and flung it at Ron, who made a roar  
  
so much like a magnified lion's that Harry cowered in fear.   
  
The next morning, Harry tossed in his bed (Ron had sleep walked back to his own bed), discovering  
  
that every position was uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and blinked; there  
  
was a black shape laying on his legs, apparently looking at him. He reached  
  
over and grabbed his glasses, and after firmly putting them on his face,  
  
he saw a shaggy dog sitting on him. The dog, however, had suddenly become  
  
Harry's godfather, who crawled off the bed.  
  
"Don't go downstairs," warned Sirius, seeing that Harry had gotten up and  
  
walked towards the door. "Remus's in a right mood. Didn't help when Ron said  
  
he'd dreamt he'd fought his grandmother."   
  
Harry blinked. He turned to Sirius before sitting down on his bed. "What's  
  
Lupin doing?" he asked.  
  
"Growling," replied Sirius blankly. "I had to run upstairs and lock myself  
  
in here because he chased me."  
  
Harry sniggered. "It's not funny!" insisted Sirius. "All I did was say that  
  
he looked like an old lady, so I understood Ron!"  
  
Harry fell off the bed laughing. Sirius squinted at him, apparently not finding  
  
the humor in it at all. "You go down there! You'll be back up here in a minute,  
  
I bet you ten galleons," sniffed Sirius.  
  
Harry smirked before walking towards the door. Sirius said "/Alohamora/!" and  
  
the door unlocked, and Harry nodded to him, apparently a sign that he took  
  
his bet. He walked out the door and closed it behind him, suddenly losing  
  
all his confidence.  
  
Lupin was pacing the hallway in front of Harry. Suddenly, he caught sight  
  
of him. He practically dashed up to him, a look of severe irritation on his  
  
face.  
  
"He's dead? You killed him, right?" asked Lupin hopefully. When Harry shook  
  
his head, Lupin scowled and slumped back into the dining room.  
  
Harry followed him and sat down at the table. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Hermione,  
  
and Moody were already sitting at the table. Ginny and Hermione were engaged  
  
in a conversation, Mrs. Weasley was cooking, and Moody was reading the Daily  
  
Prophet. Ron, however, was gazing at Lupin.   
  
Lupin sat down at the end of the table, far away from Ron as possible. Ron,  
  
however, didn't notice Lupin's horrible mood. Or, he did, but didn't notice  
  
the danger of commenting on it.  
  
"Do werewolves get PMS?" asked Ron innocently, gazing at Harry, who burst  
  
into hysterical laughter.  
  
Harry wasn't sure what happened next. There was a flash of light, a scream,  
  
clunking of chairs, and he suddenly felt hot breath on his neck. He blinked  
  
and saw that Lupin had gone after he, Harry, and not Ron. However, he was  
  
soon corrected when he saw Ron's giant feet sticking up over the table, and  
  
saw that Ron was lying unconscious on the floor.  
  
Harry screamed and jumped up. It was extremely difficult, as Lupin was sitting  
  
on him, but he was so panic-stricken he didn't notice. He scrambled to his  
  
feet and felt Lupin's weight fall onto his legs, making him fall onto the  
  
ground. Thinking of Sirius, he sped out of the dining room and into him bedroom  
  
again, on his hands and knees. Harry looked up and saw Sirius grinning at  
  
him.  
  
  
  
  
  
"You owe me ten galleons,"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well, there's the first chapter. The others are weirder, believe me... Besides,  
  
first chapters are supposed to be boring. [Remus plushie gnaws on my ankle]  
  
Hope you liked it! Be nice and review! Heh...  
  
Oh, yeah, thanks to PrOwLiNg-WoLf for pointing out the mistake I made with the beginning of the Sirius-betting-Harry scene... If you didn't write the story, it would've been confusing. 


	2. Chapter Two: When Reality Takes a Twist

(A/N) Well, here's the second chapter. I'm just now starting to get it into the actual plot: the mirror! Anyway, I thank my reviewers much for their kind reviews. X) Hopefully I don't disappoint any of you!   
  
Disclaimer: Ah, yes, there comes a time in the life of an author when they have to write the ever-so-boring disclaimer. I own not thy Harry Potter books or content, nor do I own any of thy holy J.K. originals. Wishing and reality art different things, it seems. I simply own thy plot somewhat and thou mustn't steal Mascarane, either. Thank thee for thy time. Dost thou wish to sue? Don't. I mean it. Don't.  
  
NOTE: This is for fun, and strictly that. Just because I laugh at a character, that doesn't mean I hate that character. I make Sirius an idiot, but actually, I love 'im to death. [Sirius Plushie has foam dripping from his mouth] Ah.. Ahahahaha… Erm… Help? [Runs off screaming] And please remember to point out any mistakes, or confusing points! Thank you, now read on while I fend off my evil followers! [Chases Sirius Plushie with baseball bat]  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry was extremely careful for the rest of the day. Lupin was keeping a good eye on him, and Harry was afraid to turn his back to him. Ron, however, had the worst of it. He was always cowering before Lupin, who hovered near him at all times. He constantly apologized for calling Lupin an old woman, and for saying that werewolves must get PMS, but it didn't work. He didn't know of the snore interruptions, and didn't know that he had been the one that gave Lupin the nasty bruise on his upper arm. Lupin was getting calmer, but his temper shot up at every remark he thought might have resembled an insult. Sirius stayed clear of Lupin, as he had a big mouth and was most likely to shoot off some stupid remark (he knew this) and yet again get chased by Lupin. Harry, feeling mature, called a meeting between Ron, himself, and Sirius.  
  
When all three of them were inside Harry and Ron's bedroom, Harry locked the door and Sirius magically locked it. Ron was curled up on Harry's bed, his eyes darting back and forth as if he were afraid that Lupin would Apparate and kill him on the spot. Sirius, too, was wary, as he kept glancing towards the door to make sure that Lupin wasn't listening.   
  
"Right, Sirius!" said Harry, causing Sirius to jump. "You've known Lupin the longest, why is he so grumpy?"  
  
"Grumpy, am I?" said a voice that made Ron scream.   
  
Sirius and Harry broke into mad laughter, where Harry fell off the bed and hit his head, and Sirius rolled right into the dresser, where many objects fell onto him ("DAMN IT!") including the dresser drawers. Ron hissed at Sirius, who had been the 'voice', and curled into a ball.   
  
Sirius rubbed his head and crawled back to Harry's bed. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe Ron's right, maybe he does have PMS…"  
  
"Or PTS," commented Harry, "for Pre-Transformation-Syndrome."  
  
A sound filled the room that sounded like the rumbling of an engine, but turned out to be a low-pitch growl. Lupin suddenly appeared, sitting on Ron's bed. He had Harry's Invisibility Cloak in his hands, and was looking highly irritated.   
  
The reaction between the three differed. Sirius yelped and flung himself under Harry's bed. Harry screamed and threw himself into a cupboard, where he slammed the doors shut. Ron, however, shrieked louder than Mrs. Black. He flung open the window and truly attempted to jump out it, finding that the lower half of his body was hanging awkwardly out of the window. He wasn't fat, but that the window was too small to even permit Harry to jump through it. However, he continued to struggle and push.   
  
Lupin pulled out his wand and pulled Sirius out first. He was face-to-face with him, despite the fact that Sirius was trembling and looking horrified. Lupin glared at Sirius, ignoring Harry's constant "He's forgotten about me… Who's Harry? I don't know… Never met him…" and Ron's "HELP ME! ARRRRRGGHHH! HELP! HEEEELLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEEEE!"  
  
"So," stated Lupin, in an I've-got-you-now tone of voice. "You think I've got PMS, do you?"  
  
Sirius rapidly shook his head, though knowing he had been caught saying so. "J-just joking," he sputtered.  
  
Lupin grinned wickedly at Sirius. "Right," he said. "Of course, old friend, I believe you."  
  
Sirius blinked at Lupin and stared at him as if he were an idiot. Lupin simply smirked and pulled a vial filled with a purple liquid out of his torn robe pocket. He handed it to Sirius, who grabbed it and stared blankly at it.  
  
"Drink it," ordered Lupin.   
  
Sirius frowned. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously. "It's not dangerous, is it? You wouldn't do something truly nasty to me over a joke?"  
  
Lupin smiled. "Of course not," replied Lupin. "You know I'd never give you anything that could /physically/ hurt you."  
  
Harry opened the cupboard doors enough so he could see Lupin and Sirius. Sirius was staring uncertainly at the vial while Lupin was forcing a smile. Harry began to wonder if Sirius was actually stupid enough to drink it.  
  
Sirius popped out the cork in the vial and sniffed the liquid. He scrunched up his face in disgust before turning his head away from the vial.  
  
"Disgusting! Horrible! What is this, dragon pee?" snorted Sirius.   
  
Lupin chuckled and grinned. "Of course not. You ought to know by now that potions never smell sweet." He simply stated. He saw Harry open his mouth to speak and glared at him, causing Harry to whimper and close the cupboard doors slightly.  
  
Sirius frowned at Lupin. "But why should I drink it?" he asked.  
  
"It'll tell me if you're telling the truth." Said Lupin. He frowned at Sirius. "If you don't take it, I'd think you were /lying/ to me…"  
  
Harry cursed loudly at what happened next. Sirius shrugged and took a huge gulp out of the potion. He wrinkled his nose and threw the potion aside, where it hit the cupboard and shattered. Harry had cursed because the purple liquid had splattered and went through the entrance (he had the cupboard doors slightly open) and drenched his robes. Harry held his nose, extremely unhappy that he was now drenched in the most foul-smelling potion he had ever smelled.   
  
Harry glared out at Sirius, or at least what he thought was Sirius. Lupin was cackling madly at the pile of Sirius's clothes. Harry threw open the cupboard doors and dashed to where he thought Sirius was. He glared up at Lupin.  
  
"You killed him!" roared Harry. "Damn, Lupin! You'd kill your old schoolmate just for joking around?"  
  
"I didn't kill him," hissed Lupin, his eyes shining maliciously. "Heehee… Take a look…"  
  
Lupin pointed at the loose clothes, and Harry looked. He could have sworn he saw something wriggle in the clothes, and screamed when a tiny head popped out of the sleeve of Sirius's robe. Harry fell backwards and knocked into Ron, who was still screaming for help. He hadn't even noticed that Ron had suddenly stopped screaming; he didn't notice that he had knocked Ron completely out of the window, where he fell and hit his head.  
  
The little head had shoulder-length black hair. It was blinking at him with small, round eyes before turning to Lupin. Lupin tilted his head back and burst into laughter upon seeing Baby Sirius.  
  
Harry crawled towards Baby Sirius, where he poked his forehead. He was greeted with a nasty experience; Baby Sirius bit him. Harry sucked his finger and glared at Lupin, who was clapping his hands madly and laughing. Harry grabbed Baby Sirius and wrapped him up in Sirius's shirt (which was at least five times Baby Sirius's size) and made for the door. Lupin had stopped laughing and was watching Harry with interest.  
  
Harry tried to turn the doorknob after unlocking it, but remembered Sirius magically locking it. He cursed (Baby Sirius watching him with complete attention) and turned to Lupin, who was still watching him.  
  
"Open it," demanded Harry. Lupin didn't move. "OPEN IT!" yelled Harry, nearly dropping Baby Sirius.  
  
"No." said Lupin simply. "I've only gotten my revenge on him… I've still got you and Ron to do…"  
  
Harry gulped. He watched Lupin raise his wand and point it at him, Lupin's eyes twinkling. Harry snapped his eyes shut, a cold sweat running down his forehead; nothing happened.  
  
Harry looked up and saw Lupin was gone. However, he also saw that his Invisibility Cloak was gone as well. He looked around him frantically, occasionally spinning around to see if Lupin was behind him. Suddenly, Harry felt a finger run up his spine and stop at his shoulders. Harry cringed and threw his back against the wall. He looked around him, scared dumb. He suddenly felt something poke his left shoulder; he kicked the area around his left shoulder, only to be greeted with a poke on his right. Soon enough, Harry was kicking everywhere he could, all the while getting poked everywhere imaginable (above the waist, you nasty-minded people).  
  
Soon enough, Harry was panting and sitting on the floor. He had worn himself out, kicking the air. Lupin started chuckling before throwing off the Invisibility Cloak and sitting beside Harry (who was still holding Baby Sirius). He grinned at Harry before throwing his arm over Harry's shoulder.  
  
"I'll abuse an adult, but not a child," said Lupin cheerily. "Well-I will-but, you know, it's no fun beating up a kid. It's more fun to traumatize them."   
  
Harry growled and glared at Lupin. "I'm not a child!" he said angrily. "And now I'm going to get bruises everywhere… I don't know what's worse, getting throw up on by Sirius, or getting poked by you!"  
  
Lupin looked and saw Baby Sirius was grinning stupidly, vomit dribbling from his mouth (and off Harry's shirt). Lupin took Baby Sirius from Harry and set him on Ron's bed.  
  
"Go on-puke-yes, that's right-good Sirius!" cackled Lupin. "Well, that'll be my revenge on Ron," he looked to Harry, who was staring distastefully at his vomit-soaked shirt. "Why don't you go take a shower or something?" said Lupin.  
  
Harry glared at Lupin before standing up. "I think I will," he said, pulling his trunk out from under his bed and getting a clean shirt from it. He heard Lupin unlock the door and trudged unhappily out of it and headed off towards the bathroom.   
  
  
  
Harry didn't understand it; everyone seemed to love what Lupin had done to Sirius. Hermione and Ginny were playing dress-up with him, only to fall over laughing uncontrollably when they dressed him in a cute pink dress. Harry frowned and tore off the dress, only to realize that was all he had on.  
  
Ron was constantly glaring at Lupin; he didn't appreciate it when he saw his sheets covered with puke. Lupin, however, was constantly grinning and seemed to love watching the girls harass Baby Sirius. When Harry asked Lupin when it would wear off, he simply said, "It wears off?" and made Harry run off screaming. He later had to comfort Harry who had locked himself in the bathroom and was sobbing constantly (Lupin had to, because Mrs. Weasley was beating him over the head with her broomstick).   
  
However, things just got weirder and weirder. Baby Sirius had aged ten years over three days and was now Sirius, the annoying, ever-so-sulky eleven-year-old. He was constantly following Harry everywhere. He had to explain to eleven-year-old Sirius that people need privacy when they go to the bathroom; Sirius, of course, went off sulking. Harry had to look for him and beat him around the head with a frying pan for flipping Hermione's skirt.   
  
When Sirius was eighteen, he was taller than Harry, but much more immature. He was constantly harassing Harry to create havoc with him. He was dragging Harry around and making him distract people so he could hex something. Harry mostly disliked it when Sirius woke him up in the middle of the night because he wanted to know why he wasn't allowed to leave the house.  
  
One day, after getting jumped on by Sirius and dragged down to the dining room, Harry turned to Lupin and shot him an angry look.  
  
"Will he get back his memories?" asked Harry. "And will he remember puking on me?"  
  
Lupin nodded. "The potion will stop working when he reaches his original age." He said. He suddenly grinned at Harry. "He'll even remember being dressed in a purple tutu."  
  
Sirius, who was sitting beside Harry, blinked at Lupin. "Who was in a purple tutu?" he asked.  
  
"You were," said Harry, causing Sirius to look petrified.   
  
"Harry," nagged Sirius. "Are you done yet? I finished my project… I need you to test it…"  
  
Harry looked startled. "What were you making?" he asked suspiciously. Sirius stuck out his tongue and looked away. "I'm not testing it if you won't tell me what it is!" said Harry irritably.   
  
Sirius stood up and yanked Harry along with him. He dragged him (all the while, Harry was resisting) up to the attic, leaving a confused Lupin behind. Harry looked around and saw that the attic was very dusty and full of knick-knacks that looked useless. However, Sirius dragged him past all of the cabinets full of vials and boxes and pushed him in front of a mirror.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well, was that better? Weirder? I hope. Hmm. Anyway, hope you liked it, and please read and review! Thanks much!  
  
Ah, yes, and much thanks to prowlingwolf yet again. I really appreciate the corrections. Really, there's no sarcasm there. Sometimes I make mistakes that I don't notice. It's nice to be able to fix them. Thanks much! And, I probably should've thought up a better revenge for Ron, but what can I say? My fingers hurt... all right, now I'm complaining. Oh well. Maybe I'll add to it... but Ron was unconsious, so he couldn't do anything directly to Ron... [Deep in thought] Nah, Lupin'll get his revenge on Ron later. Bwuahahahaha! XD 


	3. Chapter Three: Purple Beanbags and Pixie...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip. I own Mascarane. I think. None of the J.K. originals. I own Sirius Black. He's mine. I made him, I tell you. J.K. stole him from me. Mine. Fun with periods. And fragments. Wee. Okay. Sirius isn't mine. But he will be. You'll see. Bwuaha. Insert evil glare.  
  
A/N: Okay, it's taken me WAAAAAAAAAAAY too long to come out with this. I wrote another version of the third chapter the first few weeks, but I hate it. It sucks. Not funny at all. I like this one. It's... new. Newer chapters will be coming out real soon, because I've been real lazy and I should have, like, the eighth chapter up by now. Like.  
  
Note: If something is enclosed in slashes, it's supposed to be italic. An example is /this/. If you see a mistake, confusing point, ect, leave it in the review (and if you don't want to review E-mail me or something), and know for sure that I don't mind. Thank you, and onto the incredibly overdue story!   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The mirror was circular, and the glass seemed to be recently cleaned. The wooden frame was dark oak with a few cracks in it, and the design and structure looked extremely old. Harry didn't pay attention to his reflection; instead, he turned to Sirius.  
  
"You were making a mirror?" asked Harry stupidly.   
  
Sirius examined Harry. He patted Harry's shirt, right along the chest line, and looked disgruntled. Harry glared at Sirius, who had slumped to the floor.   
  
"Did you look at yourself in the mirror?" asked Sirius. He seemed to be pondering something.  
  
"No," said Harry. Sirius's face suddenly lit up. "I just looked /at/ the mirror."  
  
"Look again," said Sirius brightly. When Harry hesitated, Sirius stood up to his full length and glared down at Harry. Harry twitched when Sirius repeated himself, in a more demanding tone, "Look again!"  
  
Harry sighed and looked into the mirror. He saw himself, nothing new. He saw his bright green eyes, his jet-black hair, his scar, and his oval face…  
  
Harry screamed. He tried to run, but Sirius grabbed him tightly. Harry looked and saw that Sirius was grinning evilly. Harry also felt Sirius's hand slowly creep up his shirt…  
  
Harry nearly fainted. Earlier, Sirius's hand was flat against his chest, but now it was curved like a cup, and was actually covered around something… other than shirt. Harry looked down and saw that he was no longer male, but female.  
  
Harry's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell onto Sirius, who caught him swiftly. He didn't know what happened next; all he heard was his name being called, other voices, and "OH MY GOD!" before he was engulfed in darkness.  
  
  
  
Harry's eyes flickered. He tried to roll over, but something was on his legs. He blinked and saw a dark shape; he reached over, put on his glasses, and looked. Sirius was staring at him with a look of concern. Harry closed his eyes and sighed deeply. It was all a dream… Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. He stared at Sirius, who looked to be eighteen years old; exactly how he had appeared in the dream. He lifted his trembling hands, placed them on his chest, and screamed. It wasn't a dream; he was still female. Sirius jumped on him as Harry tried to run off, and wrestled him down on the bed (in a very awkward position, I must say). Sirius had Harry pinned, and Harry felt a wave of panic. His eyes were wide with horror, and it didn't help when Sirius looked quite pleased.   
  
Harry kicked and struggled, but he noticed it was no use. He hadn't become weaker as a girl, but became a foot smaller than normal. Sirius the eighteen-year-old was already almost a foot taller than Harry when he was a male; now he was practically enormous.  
  
Sirius grabbed a cloth from his pocket and tied Harry's hands to the bedpost. He was still sitting on Harry's legs, so he didn't tie them together. Sirius was examining Harry's body, full length. Other than the occasional patting of certain places, he didn't do anything.  
  
Sirius began muttering to himself. He was scratching his chin and was ignoring Harry's constant protests. "Well, that worked… Yep, that's gone… Shorter… Curved… Much more attractive…"  
  
Harry growled. His own godfather was saying that he was a lot more attractive, and Sirius didn't even seem to care that he was saying that to a "female" with the mentality of a male. However, he nearly screamed with fury when Sirius grinned at him.  
  
"You're better as a woman," said Sirius. "Let's see how these came in, shall we…?"  
  
Sirius began removing Harry's shirt. Harry, of course, wanted more than anything to knock Sirius off of him. If Sirius regained his memories, would he remember stripping Harry? Thankfully, he wouldn't, because Lupin stepped into the room right before the shirt uncovered something Harry definitely didn't want Sirius to see.   
  
Lupin's gaze switched from Sirius to Harry. Much to Harry's surprise, Sirius didn't look remotely embarrassed.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Lupin quietly. He was staring hard at Harry, as if he'd never seen anything quite like him/her/it/thing.   
  
"Seeing how well my mirror worked," said Sirius. His hands were still gripped on Harry's shirt, but he wasn't moving them in any direction.   
  
Lupin stepped forward and untied Harry's hands. Harry immediately pulled his shirt down, flung himself away from Sirius, ran out of the room, and screamed his way down the hall. Even Mrs. Black didn't have anything to say when her curtains flew open and she saw Harry.  
  
  
  
Harry was very annoyed. Sirius took every chance he could get to try and strip Harry, and everyone kept glancing at his chest. Ginny huffed and turned away when she saw him; Ron burst out laughing and ended up rolling around on the floor.   
  
Between howls of laughter, Ron managed to say; "Now we'll have to call you Harriet!"   
  
Ron didn't manage to say anything else, as Sirius stomped on him and growled, "Don't insult my test subject!"  
  
As if on cue, Harry dashed up the stairs and into his room, screaming the whole way.  
  
Hermione was very pitying towards him; she, much to Harry's annoyance, bought him a bra and said, "It'll protect you from Sirius." Harry never wore it, but had been very tempted to strangle Ron with it when Ron had started calling him Harriet. He had to run off screaming a lot, as Sirius was constantly suggesting he wear pantyhose. However, nobody went near the attic. Lupin had magically locked it, just to make sure nobody else was female-ized.   
  
Harry also felt jealous of Sirius. For some odd, twisted reason, Ginny and Hermione were utterly in love with Sirius. Harry had convinced himself it was just some Older-and-Handsome fad going around with all of the groupie girls, and that he, Harry, was just as good as his godfather. Sure, Sirius was older, not to mention taller, but hey, girls don't date guys just for looks, right? RIGHT?  
  
However, what truly bothered him was when Sirius started noticing the looks he was getting from the girls. Harry didn't know how to explain it or what it was, but something Sirius had done made the girls swoon even more and start blushing madly whenever he walked by them. He had made such uproar with the girls that, much to Ron's horror, both of the love-struck women had attempted to change their appearances. They daily overdosed on lipstick and mascara, and Hermione even straightened her hair. However, it didn't waver Sirius in his decision, whatever that was.  
  
Both Ginny and Hermione had started their own little war over Sirius's affection, and, much to their agitation neither was winning. Sirius would glide past both of them, a bored look on his face. They were practically stalking him, and the only time they were /not/ with Sirius was at night, because Sirius had insisted that he could read alone. Harry found this very tacky, because sometimes he would ask Harry to join him (he promptly refused). Either way, at night the girls were alone in the same room (Mrs. Weasley feared for their health) and would occasionally awake in the morning, bruised and sore. Hermione had even left her room with a bloody lip once, and Ginny had left with a large chunk of hair missing. Hermione's excuse was that she punched herself in the face for getting a question on her Transfiguration homework wrong, which had little doubts. No one doubted that she would punch herself over something so trivial, but some doubted she would have gotten the answer wrong in the first place. Ginny's excuse was that she was having a bad hair day, and later had to leave to shop for an Instant-Hair-Grow potion.   
  
Harry was keeping track of who was winning the war over Sirius on a piece of parchment. He had his, Ginny's, and Hermione's name written horizontally on the top of the paper and little X's below their names to stand for the points they had.   
  
It wasn't even lunch and Harry already had five points.  
  
To make matters worse for Harry, one day he noticed that Sirius wasn't aging. He was still eighteen. When he asked Lupin of the matter, Lupin had shrugged and said that he had made the potion, so it was likely there were defects. Harry had, on last resort, used the Floo to visit Dumbledore at Hogwarts (A/N: This story takes place over summer vacation, right after the 5th book, but a certain little event in the end of the book didn't happen) to see where he could contact Snape. Dumbledore had given him the address (100 Acre Woods RD) and Harry had set off of a journey to destroy the One Ring, closely accompanied by the Fellowship.   
  
At last, Frodo/Harry had reached the location of the evil Sauron/Snape. The house had the letters MOR in bright red letters on the doorframe. It gave off an evil presence, and Harry's scar hurt just by looking at it. The house was dark, the outside wallpaper was peeling, and all of the flowers and shrubs in the garden had died long since and were starting to become one with the mulch. Leading to the door was a twisted pathway of concrete with a sign on one side, on it written 'Bless this Mess'. He knocked on the MOR door (A/N: MOR door, MORDOR, get it?!) and stepped back, waiting for an answer.  
  
Soon the door had opened just a crack, and Snape peeked through, eyes scanning around for a trace of the visitor. His eyes stopped on Harry, and he didn't seem to recognize him.  
  
"Erm… Can I talk to you?" asked Harry nervously. Snape was a former Death Eater, so he didn't particularly trust him, nor did he like him. However, he /was/ the Potions master, so…  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss. I have a visitor," answered Snape. He attempted to close the door, but Harry stuck his foot in the way.  
  
"I really need to talk to you," demanded Harry. He ignored the Miss comment.  
  
"Who are you?" asked Snape suspiciously.  
  
Harry coughed. "Potter, /sir/."  
  
Snape's eyes widened. "Oh! Indeed? Come in then! He could have at least gotten a boy, but you'll do. The scar was a nice addition."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion, but Snape had ushered him into the house so he had no time to inquire what his Potions professor meant. Harry had only a moment to examine the room, because Snape was steering him down a hallway, but it looked remarkably like Headquarters. The wallpaper was moldy, and the house smelled like rotting wood and moist furniture. Harry understood, simply because Snape never was really here, but either way… As Harry was led down the hallway, he picked up the faint smell of roots from a room he passed, and there was an occasional pitch-black chair rooted against the wall. Snape flicked his wand and a door burst open; inside, Harry's heart stopped and his scar hurt.  
  
The room was pink, and very obnoxiously so. The chairs were purple beanbags; the table that the beanbags were seated around was white with multicolor legs. The rug was a soft pink, but the walls were hot pink with white hearts scattered here and there. There was a frilly bed in the corner, and the canopy above the bed was a tacky shade of magenta, and though there were no windows, there were assorted lava lamps scattered about the room. There was an open dresser that was lavender, and it certainly didn't suit the colors of the clothes inside, which consisted of black robes and red slipper socks. There was a snake cage with large bubble letters spelling out 'Nagini' on the front, and even the snake inside had little pink heart tattoos glued on it's scales. The rest of the room was littered with other heart objects that Harry couldn't, and didn't want to, identify. And, sitting on a purple beanbag, sipping tea from a plastic Barbie teacup was the most feared wizard of all time.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Harry's mouth hung open and Snape used his finger to lift Harry's chin to shut it.   
  
Snape lowered his lips to right beside Harry's ear and murmured so softly Harry could hardly hear him. "This is his room, not mine. Don't ask me why he wanted it pink, and whatever you do, when he asks you about his Beanie Babies collection, don't, DON'T, point out the yellow duck."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows and watched as Voldemort spun around in his chair thing. He pulled back his hood, revealing shiny black hair that smelled faintly of apples, pure white skin, and catlike blood red eyes.   
  
Voldemort rose from the chair and skipped (yes, skipped) over to Harry. He held out his hand and grinned widely. Harry was so surprised he forgot his scar was hurting as bad as his ears did when he went to listen to the Backstreet Boys in concert with Ginny. (His excuse was, quote, "Ain't nothin' but a mistake.")   
  
"And this must be the Potter model, nice to meet you, Potter model, what's your real name, Potter model?" asked Voldemort, and Harry got the impression of the Easter Bunny on crack because he was hopping around so bad.   
  
"Ha-Harriet Digger," replied Harry, racking his mind for a name he could properly use. (A/N: There's a pun there, actually; POTTER, DIGGER. Gardeners…)   
  
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Digger, now be a dear and stand on the table, will you?" said Voldemort, pointing out the pretty plastic table in the middle of the room.  
  
Harry gave Snape a helpless look and jumped up onto the table. He stood in the middle, because it wobbled dangerously beneath him.  
  
"Good, good, now, just stand up there a little longer, will you? The others will be here in just a tic, just a sec, just a moment, just a minute," explained Voldemort.  
  
"Umm… Right…" muttered Harry. He couldn't leave until he asked Snape about the potion.  
  
Suddenly, the door burst open and a group of Death Eaters carrying various sweets and soda pops in their arms paraded inside. Harry noticed that the Death Eaters in question were Malfoy, Bellatrix, Macnair, Crabbe, and Goyle.   
  
Voldemort clapped his hands and giggled with glee, which was very unorthodox for an evil wizard. He ran to his dresser and pulled out nine pairs of furry pink robes, which he promptly handed to Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, Bellatrix, Macnair, Harry, and Snape. He pulled the eighth robe over /his/ head.  
  
Snape groaned and donned his robe; the others cried and giggled, which, mind you, was very unorthodox for followers of the world's most evil wizard. Harry simply stared at the robe. He glanced at Snape, who was motioning for him to put it on. Harry sighed agitatedly and pulled his over his head and noted how stupid he looked. He rubbed his forehead and watched as all of the Death Eaters put the sweets and drinks on the table before lining up in a straight line against the wall. Harry, dumbfounded, watched as Bellatrix picked up a pink remote off of a bedside table and pressed a little red button; he jumped in surprise as the closet, which was perfectly blended in with the wall, except for the furry little doorknobs, flew open and revealed a large, expensive music player. It had ten speakers, which five were in the closet and the rest were scattered around the ceiling (stuck there by a Permanent Sticking Charm) and all suddenly blared music from the Village People. One by one, as they shouted out their piece, the Death Eaters jump-turned to face Harry.  
  
"Y!" cried Malfoy, using his arms to take the shape of a Y.  
  
"M!" cried Bellatrix, using her arms to take the shape of an M.   
  
"C!" cried Snape, doing the same thing the other two did but instead his arms took the shape of a C.  
  
"Dur!" cried Crabbe, his arms going behind him and scratching his bum.  
  
"Duh!" cried Goyle, his arms scratching his armpits like a chimpanzee.  
  
"A!" cried Macnair, his arms taking the shape of an A.  
  
Harry watched in horror as all six of the Death Eaters danced, occasionally shaping their arms into poor copies of the letters of the alphabet. Voldemort was clapping along, giggling with happiness, and hopping in tune to the song. When the song finished, the Death Eaters and Voldemort turned to Harry.  
  
"Well?" asked Voldemort, his eyes shining.  
  
"Sorry?" he asked, looking at Voldemort who suddenly had a murderous look about him. "I-um-didn't hear you, I was, umm… Lost in the wonderful song, and mesmerized by the fabulous dancing,"  
  
Voldemort's eyes widened with joy. "She liked it! She liked it! Finally! We don't have to kill this one!"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. The Death Eaters all crowded around the table, taking their seats, and Snape helped Harry off the table. Harry didn't even notice his head was pounding as if someone was constantly taking a hammer to it, but face it, if a bunch of Death Eaters were dancing to the Village People in pink robes, would you notice?  
  
Harry sat in-between Snape and Bellatrix, turning to face Snape, but had the air knocked out of him from how hard Bellatrix shoved sweets and a soda pop into his stomach. She didn't seem to notice. Harry looked questioningly at her, after getting his air back, and she grinned.  
  
"Your share!" she chuckled, watching with interest as Crabbe and Goyle experimented on where they could shove the pixie stick tubes. Crabbe shrugged and snorted a freshly opened pixie stick (DON'T DO THIS AT HOME). Harry shrugged and went along with it.  
  
It was around three hours before Harry had a chance to question Snape about the potion. Harry, who was exhausted from all the games and dancing that had followed the sugar rush the pixie sticks gave him, slumped over to Snape, who was sitting on Voldemort's bed.  
  
"Can I ask you something?" he wheezed, eyes drooping.   
  
Snape nodded. "What?"  
  
"You know potions that make you a baby again?" asked Harry, and Snape nodded. "What if the potion stops working before that person gets back to their normal age?"  
  
Snape thought for a moment. "You give the person who made the potion a swift kick to the head for messing it up, and you feed the victim bologna sandwiches until they throw up."  
  
"Is that all? Feeding the victim until they puke will help them start aging again?" asked Harry.  
  
"No, but it's bloody funny to watch." Answered Snape. "Really, what you have to do is say the secret word."  
  
"And that is?" inquired Harry. He was getting quite tired of this.  
  
"Hello, it's a secret word, right? If I told you, it would be a known word, not a secret word, wouldn't it?" replied Snape, as if Harry should have known this all along.  
  
"ALL RIGHT, how about if we make a /new/ secret word to replace the old one you're about to tell me?" offered Harry.  
  
"All right, the word is 'Booger Puke'," said Snape. "And… okay, I've got the new secret word."  
  
"Booger Puke?" asked Harry in disbelief. "…I… guess… who comes up with these things?"  
  
"Some crazy Muggle who's watching what we're doing," explained Snape.  
  
"Pamela Anderson?" cried Harry.  
  
"No, Julia Roberts," corrected Snape.  
  
"JULIA ROBERTS? NO! I WANT PAMELA! PAMELA! PAMMY!" shrieked Macnair. He started sobbing so violently that Voldemort had to kiss his forehead and rock him back and forth.  
  
"Ermm… Right, well, I'm out of here… But one question first," Harry added. "Why did you let me in here?"  
  
"Because we needed a judge, and You-Know-Who's infatuated with Potter, so he wanted a look-alike." Snape explained, but his voice had an odd ring to it. "'Bye then."  
  
"Um, yeah, bye," muttered Harry, running out of the room and away from the Village People Death Eaters.  
  
He dashed down the road, went back into the house that had the fireplace he used to get to Snape's house, grabbed a handful of Floo powder from his pocket, and threw it into the fireplace. He dashed through the fire, feeling his stomach churn, and found himself on the floor of the Headquarters, gazing into the face of a very annoyed girl that looked suspiciously like Ginny Weasley.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nyaha! The scene isn't done yet, I assure you. There'll be more Sirius/Hermione/Ginny in the next chapter, which will be coming soon. Less than a week. I'm already working on it. Really. I am. [Shakes off rabid Remus plushie] Anyway, please Read and Review, and believe me, though I may have the Death Eaters acting queer, they aren't. Totally straight. Even happy-go-lucky Voldemort. BWUAHAHAHA! [Voldemort plushie sucks his finger] What can I say, I'm working on about four different stories right now, and the first few weeks I suffered writer's block. Grrrr. Anyway, I left you on a cliffhanger! Well, not really. The next chapter finishes off the love triangle, unless it gets so big I have to make it two chapters. (This chapter was six pages long, and the average chapter is four) 


End file.
